


Mine

by wolfgirl720



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Biting, Blow Jobs, Canon Universe, M/M, My First Smut, Non-Consensual Touching, Possessive Castiel, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, not by cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 06:17:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8390446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfgirl720/pseuds/wolfgirl720
Summary: Dean is "researching" for a case. His boyfriend isn't a fan of his methods.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on wattpad: https://www.wattpad.com/289777387-supernatural-one-shots-mine

Castiel clenched his jaw and his fists at the same time, glad he had decided against making himself visible as his gaze tracked the petite brunette across the bar. His mind raced with ideas; he could make her trip, or give her sudden terrible diarrhea. Anything that would keep her from walking the next four steps.

He sighed, irritated, and decided to leave the woman alone. For all he knew, she had some crucial piece of information regarding the case. It still didn't make it any easier when she sidled up next to Dean, bosom shoved outwards and lust practically rolling off her in waves, and made some cliché comment about how he "must be new in town."

Dean turned with a flirty grin and began conversing with the woman. She kept a polite distance for a few minutes while they talked, but then she laid her manicured fingers on his forearm, making Cas grit his teeth and fight the urge to stand. Fortunately, Dean moved his arm out from under her as quickly as was polite. He thanked her for her time and turned to speak to the bartender, clearly indicating that the exchange was over. Still, Cas didn't relax back into his seat until the woman stood and went off in search of other prey.

It was the hunters' first night in town; a possible _rakshasa_ had brought them four hundred miles to a tiny community in rural Missouri. While Sam was back at the motel poring over local news articles on his laptop, Dean was here, doing his own brand of research.

In such a small town, chatting up the locals for clues was guaranteed to be effective and was therefore necessary, but still, Dean was a little too good at this for Cas' comfort. They were in a relationship now, however hazy its classification, and to Cas, that meant Dean was _his_. As another woman, an attractive blonde this time, sat down next to Dean and struck up a conversation, Cas tried to quash the jealousy swirling in his gut and hoped Dean would be able to get some valuable information out of her so he could leave shortly.

As the evening wore on and the drinks kept coming, several women and a few men took turns talking to Dean. He greeted each with kindness and expertly got them to divulge what they knew without making them feel interrogated. Cas watched with pride as Dean worked, but his mood took a sour turn whenever someone got too close, reaching out a hand to his shoulder, his chest, even his thigh. What made it worse was that the more Dean drank, the longer it took him to pull away. Cas observed him carefully, cataloguing every touch that didn't belong and resolving to scorch the memory from Dean's skin if he had to.

After some time, Dean rose to head towards the restroom, excusing himself from an encounter with a particularly handsy middle-aged woman. As he retrieved his suit jacket from the back of his chair, the woman smacked his ass playfully, apparently drunk enough that sexual harassment seemed like perfectly acceptable behavior to her.

Cas leapt up from his chair with a (luckily inaudible) snarl and was across the room before he could stop himself. The woman was still seated at the bar, and Dean was backing away, trying to laugh off the violation. Cas was between them, having barely come to his senses enough to remain invisible, but not possessing the self-control to prevent his grace from crackling out dangerously around him, charging the atmosphere and making the lights flicker. The entire bar froze, looking around for the source of the disturbance, and Cas had to rapidly force himself to calm down. After a few uneasy seconds, the majority of the patrons shrugged and returned to their drinks. The woman, looking a little anxious, signaled the bartender, and Dean resumed his trip towards the restroom. As soon as the door shut and the lock clicked, Cas followed.

 

The angel leaned silently against the door, arms crossed, not caring that he was wrinkling Dean's jacket where it hung from a hook behind him as he waited for Dean to finish peeing and turn around. Cas felt a surge of amusement when Dean caught sight of him and jumped like a startled animal, his still-unzipped pants nearly falling to his knees before he scrabbled to catch them.

"Jesus, Cas, you can't just sneak up on people while they're taking a piss," Dean said, running his fingers through his hair with one hand while the other stayed at his waistband. "Personal space, man."

"Oh, like the people in this bar have respected your personal space all night?"

Dean swallowed at Cas' cold tone and raised eyebrow. "So, the lights just now, that was you?" he guessed. The man nodded. Dean rubbed a hand over his lips, taking a few seconds to put his words together as carefully as his buzzed brain would allow. "Look, Cas, I know how it looks, but you know this is just a way to get information. You were completely aware that this is part of the hunt for me, and you never said you didn't want me doing it."

"Being aware of it and watching it happen are not the same thing," Cas replied, still not uncrossing his arms.

"Well then why are you here, Cas?" Dean snapped, exasperated. Cas dropped his eyes to the floor.

"Shit. I- come on, man, I didn't mean it like that," Dean said, his voice quieter as he stepped towards his angel and raised his free hand to the side of his neck. Blue eyes looked up at him with a mixture of anger and hurt.

"I wanted to watch you work. I didn't realize it would affect me so strongly."

"Aww, somebody's jealous," Dean teased softly, trying to lighten the mood. He leaned in for a kiss, but Cas turned his head away.

"It's not funny, Dean," Cas replied, stepping away from the man as his temper swelled. "I hated seeing those other people touch you, like they had some sort of claim on you. I can still sense them on you, and I..." he trailed off and bit his tongue sharply, unsure how to express the rage he was feeling.

Dean was looking at him anxiously, clearly not having expected such a severe reaction. "You can _sense_ them on me? What does that even mean, man?"

Cas approached Dean again, crowding into his space and pushing him none too gently against the bathroom door. "I can sense them, Dean, molecules, DNA, whatever, I can see where they touched you. Here-" his hand brushed Dean's right shoulder, "the guy with the cowboy hat. Here-" Dean's left wrist, "the redhead in the low-cut dress. Here-" Dean's chest, just over his tattoo, "the blonde that works at the diner. And _here_ -" Cas' hand snaked around and gripped Dean's ass where the woman had smacked him, his fingers digging in hard enough to hurt.

"Shit, Cas," Dean protested, grabbing Cas' wrist with one hand and trying to push his back off the door with the other.

"No, Dean," Cas barked, using his body weight to force him back against the door and meeting his eyes with a fierce glare. "You have to understand. They _can't_ touch you. They have _no right_ to touch you." His low, gravelly tone brooked no argument.

Dean managed a small nod, his brilliant green eyes conveying understanding, fear, and- thanks to Cas' rough possessiveness, which never failed to send Dean's blood coursing south- desire. Cas seized the hunter's chin, but his fingers were gentler as he urged Dean to meet his weighted gaze. "You are _mine_ ," he growled, then surged forward to capture Dean's lips.

By the time Dean's brain had caught up enough to return the kiss, Cas' tongue was pressing insistently against the seam of his mouth the same way his body was pressing him against the door. Dean opened his lips with a gasp as Cas ground his hips into Dean's and wound his fingers into his hair. Cas' mouth was hot and wet and demanding, his tongue battling and shoving against Dean's before withdrawing so he could pull at Dean's lips with his teeth, each action punctuated by a sharp tug against his hair.

In seconds, Dean was out of breath. Cas allowed him to come up for air but didn't pause his onslaught, ducking his head immediately to Dean's neck and sucking marks into every inch of skin he could find. It wasn't enough.

"Jesus," Dean panted, feeling Cas' fingers move to his collar and quickly begin unbuttoning his shirt. His tie had thankfully been removed earlier and was neatly rolled up in his jacket pocket, one less obstacle between Cas' smooth, strong hands and the overheated skin that ached for his touch. When Cas finally unfastened the last button and shoved the shirt from his shoulders, he looked at Dean's torso as if seeing it for the first time. "Mine," he rumbled again before attacking the exposed skin with fingers and lips and teeth, giving particular attention to the places the outsiders had touched, eliminating all evidence of their existence as he claimed Dean's body for his own.

Breathless moans fell from Dean's lips as Cas worshipped his skin, clutching his hips greedily, nibbling at his nipples before gliding over them with his tongue. The mix of sensations combined into waves of heat that shot straight to his dick, and Dean found himself relying heavily on the door just to hold himself upright.

When Cas dropped to his knees, Dean let out a long groan, suddenly very aware that his pants had fallen down his legs again, leaving only the thin cotton of his boxer briefs between his throbbing cock and his angel's sinful mouth. "Oh, fuck, baby, please," Dean whimpered when he felt Cas' hot breath through the fabric.

Then his mouth was gone, moving down a few inches to Dean's right thigh, where Dean vaguely recalled someone having touched him earlier. " _Mine_." Cas bit down, hard. Dean yelped in pain, but Cas' hand was locked around the back of his knee, not letting him move. Dean glared down at him, expecting to see blood, but his expression softened when he saw Cas gazing up at him with lust-flooded eyes as he soothed the bite mark with his tongue. Then, he slowly ran his hands up the back of Dean's legs, over his ass to the waistband of his underwear. Dean sucked in a breath and held it in anticipation.

He didn't have to wait long. Cas swept the boxer briefs down his legs, then quickly returned his hands to Dean's ass, his fingers massaging the man gently as he brought his face within inches of his twitching cock. "What do you think, Dean?" Cas asked, his breath ghosting across Dean's bare skin, raising goosebumps. "Whose is this?"

"Yours," Dean gasped out, eyes squeezed shut and head lolling back against his crumpled jacket hanging from its hook. "It's all yours, Cas."

Cas glanced up to Dean's face with a smirk and dropped a quick kiss to his flushed, leaking tip. "Good boy," he murmured through Dean's wrecked moan, then he stretched his lips wide and swallowed Dean down.

 

Anyone of the opinion that sucking dick was submissive had clearly never seen Cas at work, licking a long, sensual stripe up Dean's shaft before working his tongue around the head like he was fucking _born_ for it. He was the one on his knees, but there was no doubt in Dean's mind who was in charge here. The noises leaking from Cas' mouth around the hunter's thick cock were downright filthy, and the vibrations they made in his throat were rapidly pushing Dean towards his breaking point.

"Holy shit, Cas... feels _so_ g- uuungh," he was cut off by the swipe of a hot tongue over his slit.

The hands on Dean's ass were urging his pelvis forward, shoving him impossibly farther down Cas' throat. He felt the man's nose graze the hair surrounding the base of his cock and was struck by the sudden urge to send up a prayer of thanks for Cas' blessedly absent gag reflex.

Dean's mouth was hanging open, gasps and pants all he could manage despite the steady stream of praises and pleasure-induced expletives coursing through his mind. Cas had moved down and was now suckling gently at his balls, rolling his tongue over them in turn before lifting his head again to trace the vein on Dean's shaft ever so lightly with his teeth.

Dean could feel his orgasm barreling towards him, but he knew there was no way he'd find his voice in time to warn Cas, who had taken him nearly all the way in again. He buried his hands in the man's thick, dark hair and tugged, trying to get the message across, but instead of releasing Dean, Cas sunk down completely and swallowed hard, his throat contracting powerfully along Dean's length. Cas adjusted one hand on the hunter's ass so he could slide a pinky between his firm cheeks and seek out the spot he knew would push Dean right over the edge. When he found the ring of puckered flesh, he didn't push inside; he didn't need to. Once Dean felt the brush of Cas' fingertip against his entrance, he was gone, a hoarse (and entirely too loud) cry escaping his lips as he pulsed his release down Cas' throat.

 

The angel squeezed Dean's ass tenderly one more time before coming off his softening dick with a small, wet noise. Dean remained slumped against the door, trying to catch his breath and losing it again at the sight of Cas rising to his feet and licking his lips. His hair was a disaster, his clothes were askew, and his blue eyes looked slightly glazed over. He leaned in and kissed Dean deeply, allowing him to taste himself on the other man's lips, then he stepped back.

"You have all the information you're going to get tonight. We're heading back to the motel."

Dean nodded his agreement, still not quite ready to form words. He pulled up his underwear and pants, waiting for Cas to poof himself out of the bathroom to wait for him at the motel. He had his shirt buttoned and nearly tucked in when the angel flipped the lock and flung the door wide open, drawing the attention of several patrons who had certainly only seen _one_ man enter the restroom. Their eyes followed the disheveled stranger as he stalked across the room and dropped several bills on the bar to cover Dean's tab. He then turned for the door, not even breaking stride when he called commandingly to Dean, who was still frozen in mortification in the restroom, "Don't keep me waiting."

Once Cas was outside, all eyes flickered back to Dean, some looking disturbed, some impressed. He felt his cheeks burning and ducked his head, barely remembering to grab his jacket from the back of the bathroom door before he fled the bar, his eyes on his feet.

No one had any doubt whose he was now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into writing smut, so feedback is much appreciated! Thanks!!!


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